


Harry's Sister Sarah

by Axxor



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 02:18:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2293316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axxor/pseuds/Axxor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry discovers that his sister Sarah is sleeping around on his best friend, he's not prepared for the solution that they figure out ...</p>
<p>NOTE: Nothing to do with Harry Potter!  Harry is a very common English name ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry's Sister Sarah

He was relaxing on the sofa, watching the news, when the phone rang. Leaning over, he plucked it from its stand.

"Yeah?"

_"Harry, it's me. Can I get a lift?"_

He blinked. "Sarah?"

_"That's me, dum-dum. Your sister. Now, can I get a lift?"_

"Uh, okay. Why can't you drive?"

_"Because my car's not in town and I've had a couple of drinks. Come pick me up?"_

Harry sighed. "Sure, okay. Where are you?"

She gave him the address.  _ "When can you get here?" _

"Give me half an hour."

_"Fine."_

She hung up.

Sarah wasn't much for gratitude. Ever since they were kids, she had always been out for herself before everyone else. But she was his sister, and he was her brother, and they had that bond. It was hard to come the snotty bitch with someone who's seen you with tomato ketchup smeared all over your face.

In recent years, she had mellowed down a bit. She was married to a long-time buddy of Harry's, and they had two kids, ten and eight. He had dinner over at their place every other month, and the kids were always happy to see him.

He would have been there more often, but since he had moved interstate, he'd only been able to get away every other month.

She was working some high-finance job, while her husband Brian bossed a construction crew. Most people couldn't figure the attraction, but apparently she appreciated his blunt honesty after being fed various grades of bullshit all day, and he appreciated the touches of culture she brought into his life.

Grumbling to himself, Harry grabbed the keys,climbed into the car and motored on over. He managed to strike it lucky with the lights and traffic; instead of taking over twenty minutes to get there, he made it in fifteen.

He parked the dilapidated sedan around the corner and strolled to the front door. However, just as he was readying to knock on the door, he spotted movement through a gap in the curtains in the little window beside it. Leaning closer, he peered through the gap.

What he saw next, he had trouble understanding. There was a guy sitting on the sofa, just visible though the little window. And sitting astride his lap, dress bunched around her hips, was none other than Harry's sister Sarah. She was kissing him like there was no tomorrow, and one of his hands was cupping her ass, squeezing it hard.

_Christ fuck_ .  _Brian doesn't know about this shit._

He'd known her husband for years; they'd had each other's backs in a hundred schoolyard brawls. And Brian loved Sarah dearly; this would rip the heart right out of his chest.

Almost without thinking, Harry pulled out his phone and took a picture through the gap in the curtains. Then he stepped back and dialled Sarah's mobile. He could actually hear the scuffle inside as she climbed off his lap and found her purse.

_"Hello?"_ Her voice sounded ragged.

"It's me. Which house?"

_"Hold on, I'll turn on the outside light."_

Harry stepped back fast, and headed back down the street to the corner. Behind him, the outside light came on.

"Ah, I see it now. I'm just walking down from the corner.”

“ _Okay, I'll come out then. See you in a second.”_

She hung up, and Harry heard the front door opening. He did a quick about-face, so that when she came out on the porch, he was just walking toward the house.

“There you are,” he called out. “Half the houses on this damn street don't have numbers!'

“Yeah, that's a problem, all right,” she agreed. She looked a little flustered, and her hair was a bit disarranged, but she was so cool and calm about it that Harry almost doubted what he had seen.

Almost.

“So, some sort of meeting?” he asked as he strolled up to the porch.

“Yeah, an after work thing,” she told him. “The girl I was going to get a lift back to the motel with went before I knew it. Joe's had a few drinks, so he couldn't drive me.”

“Joe, huh?” Harry replied. He held out his hand. “Harry Tremaine. Sarah's older brother. Pleased to meet you. What do you do?”

Joe shook his hand; Harry added just a little squeeze in there, and Joe winced ever so slightly. “Oh, uh, stockbroker,” he responded. He was about as tall as Harry, but nowhere near as broad in the shoulders. “Pleased to meet you, Harry. What's your trade?”

“Pick one, I've probably done it. Bouncer, truck driver, boxing coach, whatever there's work going for.”

The subtext was clear:  _And I can kick your ass any day of the week, and twice on Sundays._

“And if you'd just pick one and settle down into it,” Sarah put in acerbically, “you might actually make a living.”

Harry shrugged. “You know me, Sazza. I'm just a rolling stone. Or something like that.”

She snorted at his old nickname for her, and decorously pecked Joe on the cheek. “Thanks for the evening, Joe. See you next time I'm in town.”

Harry couldn't let that pass, and slapped Joe heavily on the back. He  _whoofed_ as the blow knocked about half the air out of his lungs. “Sure. Hell, I might drop by and we'll have a few brews together, hey, bro?”

“Yeah,” Joe wheezed. “Nice to meet you, Harry.” Turning, he tottered back into the house, apparently trying to get his lungs back into working order.

“Come on,” Harry told Sarah. “Car's this way.”

“That was _mean_ , Hazza,” she chastised him as they headed back to the car. “You're a terribly bully. You didn't need to slap him on the back that hard.”

“Why not?” he asked innocently. “I get hit harder than that by every other guy I know.”

“Yeah, but Joe's not one of the 'guys'. He's not used to the sort of stuff you do.”

“Eh.” He shrugged and opened the door for her, then went around the other side and climbed in. “So, motel, huh?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I've got a taxi booked for six AM, take him to the airport. Then I can get out of this hick town.”

“Hey, I happen to _like_ this hick town.”

“Thus the reason I call it a hick town. I'm only here because the morons in head office wanted to make sure all the i's were being dotted and the t's crossed.”

“And they were?”

“Well, duh. But I get told to go, so I go.”

“Story of my life, sis. Which motel?”

She told him; he started the car and pulled away from the kerb.

They drove in silence for a little while, then she looked at him. “The way you treated Joe … was there a reason for it?”

Harry looked back at her. “Should there be?”

“You're my older brother, you're by definition a dick. But even you aren't usually that much of a dick.”

“So tell me why you think I did it.”

She was silent for a long moment. “Did you … see something?”

Harry took a deep breath and passed her his phone. She tapped the photos open, and opened the most recent. Then she caught her breath.

“Oh shit,” she murmured.

Harry nodded, eyes on the road. “Oh shit is about right.”

“What are you going to do?”

He shrugged. “Dunno yet. Need to think about this.”

“Are you going to tell Brian?”

“I said, _I don't know.”_

The sharp tone of his voice must have stung her; she lapsed into silence, handing his phone back. She didn't do anything stupid like trying to erase the picture, or destroying the phone. She had to have known that if he told Brian about her cheating, he'd believe Harry anyway.

<><>

They pulled into the motel parking lot. She looked surprised when he parked the car and got out.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I need to talk to you,” Harry told her heavily. “We need to talk this shit out. You go back tomorrow, so it's gotta be tonight.”

“So you're not going to tell -”

He cut her off. “That's what we're going to be talking about.”

She opened the door and they went inside. Typical motel room, it had one bed and one chair. Harry sat on the bed; it looked more capable of taking his weight. The mattress felt like it was cast from concrete.

“Fuck, how do you sleep on this?”

“With great fucking difficulty,” she replied, taking the chair and turning it to face me. “You came here to talk. So talk.”

He took a deep breath. This was not going to be pleasant.

“So, how long have you been fucking this Joe character?”

She blushed. “I, uh, only tonight. I met him at the meeting today, and he offered drinks at his place, so ...”

“And you actually fucked him. It wasn't just groping on the sofa?”

She looked at the floor and shook her head. “No. We did it in his bed.”

“Is he married?”

Again she shook her head. “No. I made sure of that.”

“Well, that's a fucking relief, anyway. Any chance he got you pregnant?”

“No, I'm on birth control.”

Harry heaved a sigh. “Good. So, anyone else you've been fucking behind Brian's back?”

“A … couple,” she admitted. “On trips. Sometimes we plan it ahead of time, sometimes we just let it happen.”

He shook his head. “That stops. Now. Brian's a good guy. If you decided you liked one of these bastards better than you like him ...”

She looked at him, eyes imploring. “I wouldn't do something like that! Not to Brian!”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Like you wouldn't fuck around on him?”

That knocked the wind out of her sails; she slumped on the chair.

He took the moment to assess her. She was a few years younger than Harry, but she'd taken better care of herself than he had. To be honest, he could see what the guys saw in her; nice round ass, tits that it would take two hands to cup properly, nice curves even though she was past her first bloom of youth.

“I'm serious,” he told her. “I never screwed around on any of my girlfriends. Not ever. If I can do it, you can do it.”

She shook her head. “I don't know. When I'm travelling, I just get so … lonely, I guess.”

Harry sighed. “You realise, if I hear of this shit again, I'm going to have to do something about it.”

She shook her head. “No, Harry, you can't. It would kill him.”

“Then what the fuck are you going to do?” he asked her bluntly. “If you keep doing this, chances are you'll meet a guy who you just want to stay with. And that would kill him too.”

“Maybe if I -” She broke off. “No. That's just not right.”

Harry tilted his head. “What? What's not right?”

She looked at him and blushed again. “I've watched you, watching me. Looking at my body. I bet you're imagining me without any clothes on. Your own _sister.”_

He hadn't, not till that point. But immediately she said it, of course, he was. And Harry, for all that he was a simple, uncomplicated man, had a vivid imagination.

“So wait,” he managed. “You're saying I should – you should – we should -”

“No, I'm not saying that!” she burst out. “But … maybe if … “

Harry looked at her, perhaps for the first time, as a woman. He imagined her out of her clothes. Imagined what it would be like to have sex with his sister. The images came easily, and he felt himself becoming aroused.

_No,_ he told himself.  _What are you thinking?_

But it had been far too long since he'd had any, and the images kept recurring.

“Maybe if we had sex,” he filled in. “I wouldn't tell, you wouldn't tell, you wouldn't be tempted to leave Brian for him ...” The idea sounded preposterous, ludicrous.

Tantalising.

'A lot of my trips come through here,” she mused. As if by accident, she undid a button on her top. Abruptly, Harry could see a lot more of her cleavage.

“I … this is a really big step,” he mumbled. “We really shouldn't even be thinking this.” It sounded weak and inane, but it was the only thing he could think to say.

She got up from the chair and came over to him. “It would solve the problem, though, wouldn't it?” she murmured. “I get my sex, you don't tell Brian, I don't have to go running around looking for it.”

Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from her cleavage; she opened another button. Now her breasts were almost falling out of her top, and she was bra-free as well. Had she taken it off for Joe and just not put it back on?

A nipple popped out; he gulped.

Putting her hands on Harry's shoulders, she pushed him back till he was lying on the bed. He watched, speechless, as she climbed astride him, her warmth rubbing against his suddenly achingly-hard erection.

Slowly, sensuously, she undid the rest of the buttons, then shrugged out of the top. Her breasts bounced delightfully with the motion; her nipples were bigger than he remembered, all those years ago when they had showered together as kids.

“So, Harry, are we going to do this?” she asked quietly. “Or do I put my blouse back on and wait for the angry phone call from Brian?”

Harry wrestled with his conscience for all of thirty seconds. It didn't have a chance, not with Sarah's lush tits in his face.

“Fuck it,” he told her, and reached up to cup her breasts in his work-roughened hands. As he squeezed them, she drew in her breath. “Oh god, you got nice tits.”

He kicked off his boots then, and they both got up on to the bed. They cuddled, as he ran his hand over her smooth naked back. She leaned in and kissed him, and he discovered that being kissed by his sister under ordinary circumstances was vastly different to being kissed by his sister as a prelude to sex.

By the time the kiss ended, he had her skirt pulled up and was doing what Joe had done, squeezing her ass in his big hands. She was moaning and panting by the time he was through, and grinding against his crotch.

She pulled his shirt off, and he unbuckled his belt to help her with his jeans. By the time those were off, her skirt was gone too, and Harry was kissing her again. Then he sucked on her nipples and started giving her breasts love-bites, little ones, all over.

She arched her back and trembled slightly as Harry did this to her, and then he felt her hand sliding into his boxers and clasping around his cock. Right about then, it felt like a carbon steel rod, and her hand felt so soft and silky and warm that his eyes crossed.

His boxers were down and off, and he was pulling her panties off, at about the time she kissed him urgently and asked, “Do you want me to suck you off?”

“Ungh … yes … please ...” grunted Harry. It had been so long since he'd had a good blowjob, that to get an offer for one even from his sister was grounds for immediate acceptance.

And then the warmest, softest, most delicious lips in creation descended around his erect penis. Harry tried to caress her, tried to encourage her, but his brain was refusing to do anything except focus entirely on what was happening to his cock.

As it was, he lasted about thirty seconds.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Gonna cum!”

She paused in her very expert licking, sucking and slurping, grinned at him, and went back to it. Harry couldn't believe it; she was lapping his precum, running her tongue up and down his shaft, and sucking just the head between her lips, all at the same time, or so it felt. One of her hands was cupping his balls, and the other was stroking his shaft below her lips.

And then it happened. All the pleasure gathered into one spot, and it felt like a red-hot geyser rushed up through his cock and exploded into her mouth.

Harry had been without for quite a while, and it felt like every single missed opportunity was being fulfilled right there, right then. He pumped his hips, pushing his cock into her mouth, as he came and came and came. The pleasure was indescribable; it felt like his cock was melting into her mouth, and that the top of his head had blown clean off.

Eventually he sagged back, his limp penis sliding from her mouth. She wiped a trickle of white from the corner of her mouth, and smiled at him before swallowing one last time.

“Holy. Christ. Fuck.” He stared at her. “Does Brian know you suck cock this good?”

She shook her head. “No. I'm pretending to improve my game though.”

Harry nodded. “Good idea.”

She crawled up and kissed him; he didn't mind, even though his cock had been in her mouth so very recently. Harry kissed her as hard as he was able; she responded ardently. His hand was just caressing her soft neatly-trimmed pussy when she murmured, “I have an idea for bringing this little guy back to life.”

“Really?” he asked playfully, pinching a nipple to make her react. “And how's that?”

She sat up in the bed. “Shower time.”

<><>

 

Showering with Sarah was a treat. She was all slippery skin and soft, resilient breasts and very naughty hands. Not that his own hands were idle; as they kissed, and their soapy bodies moved against each other, Harry was rediscovering just how erotic a willing woman's body can be, under a spray of warm water.

She moaned as he squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples to erection. Her hand stroked his returning erection, as his hand caressed her thighs, cupped her tender pussy lips, and gently began to rub at her. Meanwhile, his other hand was squeezing and caressing her soft, round ass cheeks; by the time they separated from the kiss, she was moaning and panting and squeezing his cock almost painfully.

“Wanna do it … in here?” she gasped.

Harry shook his head. “Dunno. I'm not the most agile.”

They tried anyway, but she was shorter than him, and they couldn't get things to meet up at the right angle.

So they spilled out of the shower, roughly towelled each other down, and then fell on to the bed. She fondled his erection, and sucked it into her mouth again; he groaned.

“No, god no,” he told her firmly, reluctantly withdrawing it from between her lips. “You do that to me again, I'm done for the night.”

“Oh?” she giggled, laying back and spreading her soft white thighs for his viewing pleasure. “So what are you going to do instead?”

“This,” he told her, and climbed between her thighs. Lifting her hips, he put a pillow under her, then spread her thighs and lowered his face to her soft, tender labia.

When his tongue first touched her delicate pink flesh, she reacted as though she had been without sex for a year. She arched her back and started whimpering; with each stroke, each lapping pass, she clutched at her breasts and moaned even louder.

Her juices were in full flow by now; as Harry pushed his tongue into her enticingly tight vaginal canal, he felt them coating his face, tasted them running down his throat. He licked and lapped and nibbled, and did his best to send Sara wild with lust.

When he found her clitoris and rubbed his tongue over it, back and forth, with some force, she nearly levitated clear off the bed. “Oh GOD!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Oh God! God, fuck, yes, more, fuck!”

Harry took that to mean, “yes please, I would like some more.” So he did it some more.

The copious juices flowing from her sweet little honeypot were starting to pool on the sheets below her when Harry decided she'd had enough orgasms. She was lying back, whimpering, twitching, unable to speak, barely able to move at all. That is, until he climbed up on top of her, and then her arms and legs went around him.

“Fuck me,” she growled. “Fuck me now, or I swear I'll cut your cock off.”

Harry could not turn down such an insistent offer, so he carefully guided his cock into her; she shuddered and sighed as the head slid between her labia.

Her pussy was tight and hot and wet, and so slippery that Harry barely felt any resistance to his penetration of her. She kissed him fervently, her hands caressing his body, grasping his ass. He started to stroke, his thick cock pushing deep inside his sister's pulsating slippery wetness, over and over again.

She clawed at his back as he kept thrusting, kept pushing the tempo up, felt the excitement rising in his balls. He squeezed her breasts, suckled on them, caressed her body, kissed her. She whimpered encouragement as he kept thrusting his cock incestuously, erotically, hard between her labia and deep into her vagina.

Even after the blow-job, it was all too little time before Harry felt the rising of his cum once more. He kissed Sarah, pushed up the speed once more, stroking his penis hard into her, enveloping himself in her yielding softness, over and over again.

She cried out as she came again, her nails digging into his back, her head thrown back, clenching around him as he kept thrusting. And then Harry came for the second time, ramming his cock into her, grunting as he spurted his hot semen deep into her womb.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “Fuck, yes, fuck. God, FUCK!”

She came again, just as he finished, and they lay against each other, sweaty and silent.

They rolled over a little, and he felt his deflating cock slide out of her. She moaned softly as he caressed her breast.

“Wow, fuck,” Harry murmured, kissing her on the lips. She responded, and their tongues pressed against each other.

“Wow, fuck, all right,” she told him. “That was insane. Do you fuck like this all the time?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “I haven't had any in so long it doesn't matter.”

She pulled him to her and kissed him again. “Well, I'll make you a deal, Harry. You fuck me like this every time I come to town, and I won't look around for anyone else. How does that sound?”

Harry grinned and pretended reluctance. Strangely enough, the idea of fucking his sister to save her marriage seemed entirely legitimate, now.

“Well, it's a rough job,” he conceded. “But someone's gotta do it.”

“Too fucking right,” she told him, and kissed him again.

<><>

 

Neither one of them got much sleep for the rest of the night. Harry stayed with her, and they talked and made sex play with each other. As he recovered from each strenuous session, they tried out a new position.

They were doing it doggy-style over the end of the bed, with Harry admiring her bouncing ass-cheeks, when he asked her, “So, does Brian fuck you in the ass?”

“No,” she grunted. “I've never had anyone in there.”

“Want to try it sometime?” he suggested, thrusting harder into her softly squelching pussy.

“Oh god, yes, like that … maybe sometime,” she allowed, groaning as he hit her buttons, time and again.

Harry came inside her again, and they cuddled up on the bed. Talking and caressing gradually led to sleep, and they both drifted off.

<><>

Six AM was a haze of blaring alarm clock, ringing phone, and a taxi beeping outside. Sarah stumbled around, looking for her clothes; Harry helped her as best he could, while pulling on his own.

Before she left, she kissed him firmly. “Remember our deal,” she told him.

He kissed her back. “As if I could forget.”

He didn't go outside, but watched from the door as she climbed into the cab and left for the airport.

Looking at the bed, Harry decided that he just didn't want to sleep on that concrete slab without Sarah making it much more comfortable. So he finished pulling on his boots and doing up his shirt, got back in his car, and drove home.

He couldn't wait until Sarah came to town again.

<><><><>

 

 


End file.
